All the fun (?)…

…of the fair.

It’s that weekend – the weekend o f the Fete Patronale of the village. This means that the “fun”fair sets up literally right outside our house, with music thud-thud-thudding from 3.00 in the afternoon, until 11.30 (or later) with no let up. With the windows & shutters closed it is just about bearable, until we want to go to bed. Then it is less so.I ‘m afraid I was delighted to see that rain had been forecast, but it didn’t appear.

On Saturday morning we did the cleaning – as always! Mr FD did the washing/hoovering of floors with the Beast, while I did lighter cleaning duties, such as mopping up the hairball sick remains, and sorting the washing.

I also had to go into the bank (again: I’d spent an hour there on Friday) – for some weird reason, while I can use my debit card with no problem in shops, and bank machines, it has recently stopped working when I try to buy on t’internet. I’ve tried to buy books for my Kindle, and some other things, but they have all been refused. The manager tried all kinds of things, and finally thought it had been sorted. But when I tried to buy a lovely pair of amber ear-rings (only to see if the card now worked, you understand!) on Etsy (just in case the problem was just on Amazon) it failed to go through. Boo! Hiss! I went in to tell her, and she decided the best thing would be to get a new bank card delivered, and to cancel the old one. So that’s what is happening. But it’s been a bit frustrating (although it’s a good excuse to have not bought Mr FD a birthday present!!)

In the afternoon, I decided to get back to my Celtic patterns. I’d not done any for a while, due to holidays, and getting ready for a Medieval fair I did, so it was good to get back to it. I don’t know if I’ve shown you this before

This is the first in the “Animals & Beasts” section, and it uses a lot of the skills practised in the other patterns worked on previously. I did this at the beginning of July. I’m not very pleased with the colouring, but happy with the rest of it. This one (below) was the one I did on Saturday:

Very happy with this one. I also started working on another (which was finished later), which I am also pleased with. There are bits of it which I could have done more carefully, but still, in general, I’m satisfied. They were easier to draw than I expected!

By now the music had started, so we decamped to the house of a friend. She lives in the UK and the house is probably going to be put up for sale, as she and her family rarely come. It is kept clean by a local lady, and Mr FD is an unofficial caretaker, so has the keys, and we’ve been told we can use it whenever we need to. It’s only a kilometre out of the village, but there’s a hill between it and the village,so the noise is minimal!

So we went down for a couple of hours, to read, draw, have a zizz…until 7.00 when we popped back to the house to feed the cats, and ourselves. We had a pizza and salad, then closed up the house against the fireworks (the cats, in general, are not bothered by them) and headed back to the other house. Here we watched a couple of episodes of “House” which Mr FD had downloaded, and then went to bed. We could hear the fireworks, but that was all.

I didn’t sleep too well, having the most peculiar dreams. You know that dream when you have an exam, and you’ve not revised for it? Well, my version is that I’m in a play, and I haven’t learned my lines – or I’ve forgotten them all. On Saturday night, I could not only not remember my lines, I couldn’t find them in the book of the play – I couldn’t remember what scene it was, I was frantically flicking through the book (“As You Like It” ) trying to find my part and it wasn’t there! I called on Joc Rose (a real person who was also in the theatre group I was part of in the UK) to help me, and she couldn’t find it either. It was a classic anxiety dream. I woke up, thinking I’m glad that’s over. I popped to the loo, went back to sleep, and guess what?! I was backstage, still not remembering my lines. Horrid.

Apparently anxiety dreams like this mean you forgot to do something important in your real life OR A transition period awaits you; the fear and uncertainty of the future are making you have such dreams OR Difficulty coping up with life challenges is giving you anxiety and lower self-confidence.

So it’s either that I haven’t done my ironing (but I haven’t forgotten it. Just not done it!!) OR I’m worried about going on holiday (the only transition I can think of) OR it’s my low level, just-another-gift-from-cancer anxiety kicking in. I suspect the last, but maybe I am just worried about my ironing!

On the western front

Thursday was our last full day in Belgium, so Mr FD, SiL and MiL set off for a longer walk in the dunes at De Panne. I was hoping to do some sketching/painting, but by the time I had finished my book, walked along the prom and done some shopping for lunch, they were on their way back. But I still enjoyed my morning. I like having time alone.

Sunny day Selfie

After lunch, we took the tram up the coast again, to Nieuwpoort . This town had been at the very edge of the Western Front and had played a part in stopping the Germans sweeping through Flanders during the first battle of Ypres. The decision was taken to flood the flat farmlands – there were several locks & sluices and waterways in the area. You can read more on this Wikipedia page

There was an interesting museum, with a viewpoint across the flatlands from the top. There was also an exhibition of sound & vision, with some very atmospheric music playing.

As my back was hurting again, I actually spent a lot of time sitting, listening and looking at the basin where the waterways all met through a large picture window. Which was fine.

There had been a tram breakdown, so we had to wait quite a while for the return tram, and stand up for the 30 minute trip, as it was so crowded. I wasn’t a terribly happy bunny. We’d planned to go out to dinner, but on my walk I’d scoped out the local restaurants and most were closed on Thursdays. So we went to a traiteur instead & all chose our own meal. We chose a couple of salads to start, then I had rabbit in a prune sauce, Mr FD chose Navarin of lamb, MiL chose a traditional fish stew and SiL salad Niçoise. This meant we were able to take time tidying and packing for an early start, and to relax in the apartment.

Another early night, as we were getting up at 6.30, in order to make sure MiL/SiL didn’t miss their ferry. And we had a long drive in front of us. It was on that long drive that we received the news that MiL’s brother had died. However, it was good she’d done the foot passenger trip with SiL because she was going to do it again by herself the following week, when Mr FD drove all the way to collect her for the funeral.

Bruges

I last went to Bruges on a school trip when I was about 16. My brother & sister had both studied languages, so they had done school exchanges, Judy to France, and Mike to Germany. I wasn’t linguistically gifted, so I’d not studied any language past “O” Level. Mum & Dad still thought I should have a trip abroad away from the family, so when the school organised a joint trip with the boys’ school to Bruges, they let me go. I can remember nothing about the trip, save for flirting a bit with a boy, and buying a bright orange Mont Blanc pen for myself. I must have saved up some money for that venture! Unfortunately I no longer have the pen, but it survives in my memory.

This time, I went with MiL, SiL and Mr FD. We took the train from the local station, and the journey went very smoothly. The station in Bruges is a 15 minute walk from the centre of the city, and is well signposted. I’d booked us on a walking tour, so we headed straight for the meeting place, in the Markt, the old market square, where, unsurprisingly, a market was taking place. As we were a bit early, we wandered round the market, admiring the wares – beautiful fruits, interesting cheeses, and delicious looking bread and pastries.

When it was time, we gathered with our guide, and set off to see some of the sites of the city. Ray, our guide, was a Brugeian (?) by birth, and loved the city. He was engaging, and amusing, and knowledgeable, and he worked hard for his tips!! He saw I had my walking batons, and made sure that there was somewhere for me to sit down wherever we stopped.

Ray divulges information about one of the city’s two surviving breweries

We saw lots of the beautiful city, and heard of its history. He was delighted when we were able to tell him how the expression “small beer” (originally the name for the very weak beer that was drunk in place of drinking the water, which was unsafe) has become used for talking about something insignificant. I could see him storing the knowledge away to be brought out in another tour!

At the end, we asked if he could recommend a place to buy a sandwich for lunch, which he duly did. We used the GPS to take us there, but it somehow didn’t work, taking us down dead ends. Finally, we stumbled (almost literally!) into a tapas bar that was both open, and had seats. It was perfect! We had some very tasty nibbles, followed by Belgian waffles with Belgian chocolate and sliced banana, bought from a street stand.

We went and bought some Belgian chocolates for ourselves and friends, from a shop with a sign saying “Chocolate is God’s apology for broccoli!” Then we found a canal trip without too much of a queue, and off we went! It was interesting, and gave us another view of the city.

By the end, we were flagging a bit and decided to head home. Happily, as we’d taken no notice of timetables, there was the correct train in 10 minutes, so we didn’t have long to wait. We all dozed on the way home! We decided to buy various bits and bobs for dinner, and SiL put together a very nice meal of salads, smoked salmon, anchovies, and other yummy things.

By about 9.30 we were nodding off, so it was another early night!

Liking being beside the seaside!

A couple of weeks back, my SiL and MiL came over as foot passengers, Dover-Calais, and we met them at the port. We then went on to Koksidje (no idea how to pronounce it!) on the Belgian coast. we had booked an apartment on airb&b and it was lovely! Five minutes walk from the beach (if that!) with everything we needed.

There was a bit of confusion checking in, but that was more our fault than the hosts, but once we were settled we went out for a walk to explore the neighbourhood.

Mil, MrFD & SiL by the beach

Prom at Koksidje in the evening.

We returned to the apartment to eat. I’d prepared everything before the trip, so it wasn’t too tricky to get together. We had smoked salmon paté & houmous, then aubergine & halloumi bake, and cheese, fruit & cake for dessert.

The next day we took the tram that goes all along the coast, right up to the Dutch border. Mr FD was keen to go that far, but time ran out. We stopped at De Haan an Zee . Should you wish to experience some of the tram ride the video at this link will show you.

De Haanan Zee is known in French (apparently) as Coq en Mer (Cock-on-Sea) We found this large cock on show

After a longish walk along the prom & back along the beach it was lunch time. We found a restaurant that suited us all, and enjoyed a good meal. I had traditional carbonade, Mr FD had a burger, and SiL & MiL each had a garlic prawn salad. No dessert, but Mr FD had an ice cream later.

We debated going along to the end of the line, but time was getting short, so instead we opted for the Japanese garden back in Ostend. This was a charming spot – not big, but very peaceful. We spent about half an hour wandering round, before hopping on the tram again.

It had started to rain, so we decided to go back to the apartment and chill. This was good as my back had started to hurt quite badly. Mr FD had brought some really strong painkillers, so I took one of them, which helped enormously. There was also a very comfortable chair in the apartment (the black one in the photo) which gave great back support too!

Because we’d eaten very well at lunch time, we just had salad and cheese for our evening meal. We listened to music and read, and then all of us were ready for an early night!

A dotty card

I will tell you about Belgium some time soon, but this is a short post to show another card.

This is another one destined for a singer we are going to see. He is called Peter Jones, and plays under the name of Tigermoth Tales. He’s got a concert on the same day as the Big Big Train concert in London, and apparently it is quite a tradition for him to play the same date as BBT, and for those going to the BBT concert to go to his as well – similar type of music, I guess.

Here’s the card

Various items, all from Noz – the lettering, the rosette, the flower & the embellishment, the bee. But why dotty, you might ask.

Well, this remarkably talented musician (sings, plays guitar, keyboard, flute…& more) is blind. I made the front as tactile as I could, with the letters all raised, with an embossed part, with a raised felt-y ribbon. But then I thought “He probably can’t read roman letters as he went blind before he was 2 years old…Maybe he reads Braille instead”

So I spent far too long writing “Have a good show” in Braille. I made so many spelling mistakes – putting the dot in the wrong place! The example where I made the mistake in the final “w” was the most irritating. I used my brad-putter-inner (see below) to make the indentations

and it finally looks like this

You can see where I was too enthusiastic & made a hole!

I will write a message and trust someone will read it to him.

Here’s an example of his music

Making cards

We are back from our holidays in Belgium – we had a lovely time, but unfortunately on the way home we received a phone call with some bad news. It was Andrea, Mr FD’s cousin in Germany, telling us that her father (my MiL’s brother) had died.

It had been expected – he had been in a lot of pain with kidney failure and so forth, but of course, news of a death is always bad. Especially for MiL who lost her other brother at the beginning of the year.

It is possible that Mr FD & MiL will be going to the funeral – Mr FD has already planned how it could be done via train, but MiL has just had a trip to Belgium, which did tire her out, so she may not be inclined to travel to Germany so soon after. She is fit, but she is also 84, and gets tired more quickly than before (of course!) We also have a trip to Italy planned in two weeks time, so depending on the date of the funeral, it may not be possible because of that.

I have, in the meantime, made two cards: one for the three cousins in Germany, and one for MiL

I copied the main design from a card on t’internet, but adapted it depending on the materials I had available. This uses embossed paper – I don’t use my embosser enough, so this was an opportunity. The patterned paper and ribbon were both from Noz, at one time or another, as was the pearl embellishment. I used a very old eye shadow to “blur” the edges of the sentiment.

Again, everything was Noz related, or recycled. The paper was from a pad bought at Noz, as was the butterfly and the “love” sticker. The ribbon and the background to the sentiment are both recycled from a box of chocolates I received. This card is for my MiL.

Two more resistance heroes

Last blog post, I wrote about Alice Arteil, a resistance heroine, who was born of humble beginnings in a village not far from St Just. In researching, I found other names, which I had heard connected to the chateau which is just outside the village.

The chateau de Trémolin

Jacques Méaudre de Sugny was born in Lyon, in 1910 the third son of an aristocratic family, with land in St Just en Chevalet, and the Ardèche. By the age of 25 he was the director of a bank and doing well for himself. However, aged 27, he became a member of the Communist party – I’m not sure how well this sat with the fact he was a member of the aristocracy.

At the coming of WW2 he was married, to Andrée, and they had two daughters. In the spring of 1943, the family moved to their property in Roiffieux, in the Ardèche, then to their castle in Trémolin, in Saint-Just-en-Chevalet. Their life in the resistance began.

Jacques left home and joined the Maquis group in the Ardèche, participating in many missions of sabotage, destruction and attacks. Very quickly, “Loyola” (he took the code name, after his education with the Jesuits!) becomes a respected resistance fighter, pursued by the Gestapo. He was involved in the liberation of various villages and towns, really goading the Nazi regime by proclaiming the republic and declaring himself  to be mayor during the liberation of the town of Annonay in June 1944, This lasted for two months until the recapture by the Germans. On August 12, 1944, he became the first prefect of the Ardèche during the Liberation of Privas by the Resistance. He remained in this position until September 5, 1944

While Jacques was away , having fun (!!) his wife Andrée was also playing her part. She hid resistants and Jews who were in hiding from the Nazi regime. Unfortunately, while Jacques was evading the Nazi and Milice, Andrée was a sitting target. They knew where she was. So in retaliation for the actions of Loyola and his group, the chateau was raided on July 4^th 1944, and then again a few days later. Although nobody was found hiding, Andrée was arrested and taken to Montluc prison for questioning. Montluc prison was in Lyon, and Lyon was under the jurisdiction of Klaus Barbie, known as “the butcher of Lyon” With a name like that, one can imagine the treatment that the prisoners received.  She was deported, on one of the last convoys leaving Lyon, to Ravensbruck concentration camp, where she lived through the horrors and inhumanity suffered by so many. As the Nazis were losing the war, those still clinging to life were taken on the infamous death march; somehow she escaped from the columns and was hidden by sympathisers. She was repatriated in May 1945, and was a witness at the trial of Barbie in 1987.

All her life she fought against injustice and fascism. She died in 1989, but while the life of her husband is celebrated, with articles in various places, I could find very little about Andrée – maybe because her contribution was less “heroic” than Jacques, she – like many other “ordinary” people who stood against the Nazi regime – has almost been forgotten.

Jacques went on to first a life in politics, until he was expelled from the Communist party in 1954, and then around 1970, he became a writer and naturalist columnist on French TV under the name Jacques Trémolin. For several years he made programmes  for children about animals. He died in 1986, a few years before his wife, and his ashes were scattered at the Col de l’Escrinet, the place of his meeting with General Jean Touzet du Vigier, commander of the 1st Armored Division (Saint-Louis) of the 1st Liberation Army. A memorial of Volvic stone, was erected his memory and his successive identities.

World War Two comes to the village: Alice Arteil

It was this plaque that prompted me to write the last blog post. I passed it when I was walking on Sunday

Here lived Alice ARTEIL. an important member of the resistance group of the Bourbonnais mountains. Chief of the group, then volunteered in the Army to liberate France. Knight of the Legion of Honour… We remember all the men and women who resisted and suffered during this war.

I knew nothing about Alice Arteil, so I did a little research. It wasn’t difficult to find information, as she is celebrated for her work in the Resistance.

An ordinary countrywoman, born in 1912 in St Romain d’Urfé, the next village to St Just, she married a draper from St Just. At the outbreak of WW2 her husband went off to fight, and then disappeared, with no news whatsoever. It transpires that he was in a German POW camp, but Alice did not know this.

At the beginning of Nazi occupation, St Just was in the “Free zone”, as Vichy is not very far from here. It was not until 1942 that the Nazis occupied the whole of France – but of course, during the period before this, there had been collaboration, including deporting of “undesirables”. Alice became involved in the clandestine distribution of anti-Nazi tracts and newspapers in the area.

It was in 1942 that Alice joined the Maquis, the resistance group. The Bourbonnais mountains are not far from here at all, and it was one of the groups active in the area. By 1943 she was the head of the group based in Lavoine, which numbered about 50 members.

In November of this year, the unit merged with the French Francs Tireurs et Partisans and on January 1, 1944, the “Alice” group was born, which protected wanted resistance fighters, recovered equipment from parachutes, and sabotaged railway tracks. On March 17, 1944, Alice escaped arrest by Gestapo agents, but sadly some of her companions were not so lucky..

On 18 June, her group neutralized the Roanne-Lapalisse railway in response to a call from de Gaulle to all resistance groups to support the landing of the Allied forces in Normandy on 6 June 1944. On August 28, 1944, she marched through liberated Vichy.

However, this did not signal the end of her work, as she was wounded a few days later in an attack on a German column. She then joined the French First Army with the rank of lieutenant, and participated in the liberation of Montbéliard, Belfort and Colmar . Alice Arteil was demobilized on April 1, 1945 and she was able to be reunited with to find her husband after 5 years of captivity and her daughter, who had been born in 1940. History does not record what was happening to her daughter during this time, but I assume that grandparents were utilised!!

If you can read French this citation gives more details about her life and activities. It also mentions other resistance activities in the area.

Alice went back to ordinary life after the war, with her husband and daughter, and died in 1992, aged 80. I wonder how she found civilian life – was it blissfully peaceful, or did she find it hard to settle into humdrum, every day activities? In St Romain d’Urfé there is a garden dedicated to Alice’s memory

Alice’s daughter, Marinette, at the inauguration of the garden.

Whenever I read stories of these brave men & women, resisting oppression and invasion, I can’t help but wonder what I would have done. Would I have kept my head down and my mouth shut? Would I have done little things, like Alice did at the beginning – although even distributing anti-Nazi writing was heavily punished, so maybe not so “little”. I really don’t know, but I applaud these women and men.

In researching this story, I came across the name of another, who was active in the Resistance during WW2. Another time…